For people of a certain age, Stereophonics will for ever be associated with the Britpop era: Chris Evans, Cool Britannia and late-1990s beery bonhomie. The opening two songs – The Bartender and the Thief and A Thousand Trees – come straight from those days and are greeted with pints held aloft in a venue smaller than the arenas and stadiums the band usually play. Gravel-throated frontman Kelly Jones had a knack for lyrics that, however prosaic, somehow captured the hearts of ordinary people. Pick a Part That's New – which was inspired by their first trip to New York – may be about dealing with unfamiliar surroundings, but is greeted like a returning friend.

However, the audience are clearly moved when Jones dedicates a handful of early songs to former drummer Stuart Cable, who died aged 40 in 2010. It seems equally pointed that much of the set hails from their early years, before the manic lifestyles and dead-eyed routine of rock stardom.

Similarly, a clutch of new songs are more reflective, even darker than anything the band have done before. Featuring haunting guitar motifs and melancholy orchestrations, the likes of Violins and Tambourines and In a Moment are heartfelt, candid songs of soul-searching, self-doubt and madness that sit rather awkwardly with the plodding Mr Writer, Jones's hoary old instruction to cruel rock critics to "tell it like it really is". In truth, they have enough hits and fans not to worry about critical approval. Dakota produces an instant celebration, and during Just Looking a chap actually gets down on one knee and proposes to his girlfriend. The band send their audience home happy, but offer tantalising hints of what may prove to be a very different second phase to their career.